Chapter Four
Things were going from bad to worse, the very girl that was supposed to have solidified his reign was ripping it apart at the seams. He’d heard a few whispers in the palace that he was cruel to her and his tenuous grip on power had almost slipped, almost. But then she’d done something stupid, something impressive but something stupid, she’d tried to reach her brother by rowboat and probably tried to smuggle him some intelligence. Although whatever it had been must have been lost to the sea when she’d jumped as all he’d found was a jar of cream and some sweets, but it had been enough to get his Generals back on his side and away from the enemy islands harbouring those lords who’d fought against him.
They saw her for what she was, a cog in her brothers plan that needed to be beaten into submission. Metaphorically of course, despite their little unpleasantness he wasn’t a complete savage. Besides, one hit from him would probably kill her, she was tiny – the product of a birth that had come far too early, and he didn’t actually want to kill her. Not yet at least. He’d thought about it, when she’d flung herself into the sea, but Ambrose had reminded him that he needed an heir from her to ascend the throne, then Abraxas had looked at him with disgust and told him she was only a girl. It was always Abraxas, with his soft heart and big ideas that got them into these messes. But he had power, influence, things they needed to remain in control.
“There’s been no sightings of her brother’s ships.” Nik shuffles through his parchment. “There was a ship, but it flew no banners.”
“And was she heading towards it?” Ambrose ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“They were heading nowhere, you know that. They were rowing in circles a mere mile from shore, they didn’t even have a compass.” Abraxas sighed. “Also my wife told me your wife was upset, just because you killed her brother doesn’t mean you can take it out on her. She had no voice in the matter.”
“Helena talks too much, I was simply reminding her that we won and she must stop complaining.” Ambrose rolled his eyes. “Just because you adore Narin doesn’t mean we all get along with our wives, I like mine but she vexes me.”
“I loathe mine.” Intensely dislike was a more apt description, but he had a flair for dramatics. “She’s not what was promised, the stories seem false, she’s probably a spy, I can’t speak to her, and I don’t find her attractive. She’s here, but he is not.”
“She is pretty, small but pretty.” Nik cut in, no doubt thinking of his own rather plain wife. A political marriage was something they’d all accepted when they’d planned the coup, but it was fucking dreadful how dour most of them had been. “A few good meals would sort that out.”
“And she’s short, the last surviving child of eight. The runt of the litter.” He snorted into his cup, she could be his little runt. A scrappy little thing. “I doubt she can even carry my heir.”
“It’s been a few days, allow her time to adjust and she may please you.” Abraxas seemed to reflect on his own marriage to Narin, something that had ended perfectly. “For now put your issues with her brother to rest, he’s given us a quarter of the gold, promises a further quarter in six months, and the rest upon his return and seeing his sisters smile. Make sure she has a smile left.”
“Like I said, I’m simply ensuring she is loyal and then I will make her the happiest bride this kingdom had ever known.” He was just covering his back, that was all.
“Well Narin said you should be gentler, she says the slaves whisper that there was far more blood than necessary on your wedding night.” Abraxas frowned. “Despite what you think, she is only a girl.”
“Spilt wine.” Narin could stay out of his affairs. “No need to worry, goodnight gents.”
A quick check in with the soldiers surrounding his rooms let him know they’d tested the locks but not tried to escape, at least that was some form of progress, then again she was probably recovering from that rather pathetic escape attempt. To steal a boat from an orchard, open the floodgate, take a tiny rowboat out in a storm, well she was either an imbecile or incredibly cunning. It could go either way, if he was trying to steal a kingdom then he’d do all he could to make the current leader look like a tyrant.
“Princess.” The fear on her face was gratifying, even the way she flinched against the shutters at his mere arrival was incredibly satisfying. It was as though she was waiting his decree, as if she wanted to know if he’d uncovered her plans.
“How your day?” Her accent was terrible, words barely comprehensible, but as it was a first attempt he’d allow it.
“This isn’t good enough.” He stared at the slave-girl as another slave lit the oil lamp. “There had better be improvement tomorrow.”
“My day it was good.” The princess was trying, and failing, to follow the conversation. “My day, I learnt more greetings.”
“This is appalling.” It was like talking to the village fool. “You may be her body-servant, or whatever name they like to give you, but this is my kingdom and my orders will be obeyed.”
“I’m sorry.” The girl bowed her head, trembling slightly. “She is a fast learner, tomorrow will be better.”
“Why there is no wood?” The princess tried again, not even bothering to attempt correct pronunciation.
“Tell her she may ask for wood and when I believe she deserves it, she may have it.” He waited for the girl to translate, enjoying the scowl that flashed across the princess’s face. “Ready her for bed, then set out my dinner.”
His dinner, not hers. There was a flurry of conversation between the two women, some very clear derogatory remarks were directed at him but truthfully he held the power and she would do well to remember that. The depths of his control was finally coming to light, they struggled to open her only remaining trunk before realising he’d changed the locks. Her outrage was divine, she could lord her status over him, plot away with her brother to overthrow him, but he was her captor, and he could ruin her fucking life. Kari had better remember that.
“The princess needs a new nightgown.” This time the girl couldn’t hide her irritation, next time he would have her flogged.
“When she deserves one, I will give her one.” He sat at the small table, watching as another slave placed his meal before him. “Bring cold water so the princess may bathe.” He turned back to the slave girl. “Give her the old nightgown to wash.”
“But she hasn’t another to wear.”
“Then she will sleep nude.”
For the first few minutes of listening to her sobs as she bathed in cold water he truly began to question his decisions, but then the spiteful flurry of words returned and any sympathy vanished. If she would fall in line, mostly by not shaming him before the court as though he were half man, half beast, then he would probably be a little kinder. If she’d have swallowed her pride and asked for dinner then he’d have shared it with her, but it seemed another pointless battle of wills he would need to ride out, so he finished his meal as her stomach growled from the bed.
“Did you say something?” He’d heard a few mutters coming from the bedroom as he’d enjoyed a hot bath, but she hadn’t realised he was now in the doorway.
“No.” She lied.
“What did you say?” He lowered his tone, watching the fear flit across her delicate features. She had a funny, flat little nose, she looked nothing like the women here, perhaps that was why he didn’t like her. The gold of her skin was nice, her eyes were large and lashes pretty, even her lips were full, but she just seemed odd to him.
“Mama moon, I pray.” She clutched at the sheets as he stalked forward, lower lip trembling in fear. “I pray you don’t, I’m sore. I’m hurt.”
“You pray, do you think they hear you?” Truthfully he knew nothing of her culture, but the moon couldn’t intervene. “But I need an heir, and you need to give it to me.”
“Please.” Her voice cracked, clearly she understood that.
There was a grimy shame that clung to him as he moved away from her, he couldn’t bear the tears so he’d made her lie on her stomach so he could finish that way. But he felt fucking vile. It’s not like he’d never been with a woman less than willing, some of the whores he’d paid had clearly not wanted to be there most of the slave girls in soldiers camps weren’t there by choice, but somehow this felt wrong. It wasn’t unenjoyable, she felt nice enough around him, it simply made it very clear who they were. She was a pure princess and he was the common soldier sullying her, it made him hate her just a little more.
“You hurt me.” She hadn’t moved from her stomach, her cheek resting on the pillow as she stared at the wall. At some point she’d stopped fighting and it seemed as though her strength would never recover. “I don’t hurt you.”
“Go to sleep.” The shivering was probably for show, it wasn’t even that cold.
It took until morning for the first crack to appear, he’d fully intended to leave her without clothes and she’d actually asked. But she refused to ask for breakfast, or tea, or firewood, or a lamp, so he gave her a single tunic dress and left. When he’d visited her in the afternoon she refused to ask again but he did leave her a jug of water, only as her lips were chapped, then when he returned for dinner she refused to ask again so he allowed her a cold bath and she waited on her stomach in the bed. This continued for the next four days and although he kind of admired her stubbornness, he was now wondering if she could starve to death.
“Is the princess any better?” Nik was supposed to be helping him inspect their remaining troops, but the past two days he was prying into the affairs of his marriage. “No one has seen her for some time, there’s been talk.”
“Talk?” Talk was never good.
“Some say she’d dead, unhappy, locked away.” Nik scanned the troops. “If news reaches-“
“New won’t reach Izuwa, she’s written no letters and we watch the ports.” It was a surprise to him that she’d not tried to send anything out, not that he’d shared a single plan. “And it will take more than a few days sick for news to reach Isto, no one will rally for a poorly bride.”
“Is she alive?” Nik eyed him warily, of course he did. They all feared him, because he had done the unthinkable. And he’d do it again.
“She is perfectly well, just recovering and stubborn.” He let out a soft laugh, watching the tension ease form Nik’s shoulders. “I’ll have her play the harp for us tonight.”
“She may benefit from the company of other women.” So Nik’s sister wanted a friend, a royal friend. “We should dine with her.”
“Perhaps.” If she asked. “Continue searching the forests.”
“Tom-“
“Just do it.” He waved a hand in dismissal.
It was the usual glance of distaste that greeted him as he entered the bed chamber, but as he wasn’t the one huddled in the dark he paid it no mind. He couldn’t really invite her to dinner when his efforts to humble her hadn’t worked, she’d simply see it as her right and not something earned. Perhaps it should be her right, but then things got rather murky, to be heralded a princess, treated a princess, commanding the court as a princess, well, then there was no need for a general with no power. All it would take was the slightest whiff of power, the merest whisper that her brother backed her claim, and the old lords would sail from Isto and try and take back the kingdom. But he didn’t want a kingdom, he wanted an empire and her slippery brother had agreed to help.
“Princess.” One day she would simply greet him as he returned, instead of this childish silence.
“How was your day?” She didn’t move from the floor, but she didn’t move much anymore.
He told her of his day in great detail, not that she’d understand, he spoke of all the trouble she was causing, the lack of communication from her brother, the potential grain shortage facing their kingdom, and the inability to strike a much needed deal with Karth. All things her presence was supposed to help with but didn’t, all things that had commoners whispering about his fitness to rule. He didn’t ask her questions, because he simply didn’t care, but she nodded along as though she understood.
“Get up, I want you to play the harp tonight.” He motioned for her slave girl to ask for an oil lamp, it was so dark he could barely see her. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The defiant look was back. “I don’t want.”
“If I have to ask twice, there will be trouble.” He should probably give her a new dress, she’d not asked for a new one so the dress she was wearing was rather filthy. “Wash, dress, and be ready in an hour.”
“Can I have hot water?” She finally asked him for something, but instead of subservient she just seemed curious.
“No.” He wanted her to beg. “Perhaps if you’d have agreed to the harp then I’d have said yes.”
But she didn’t beg, she just shrugged with a disappointed smile and spoke to her slave girl in her usual language. He’d thought of banning that language, if he knew what she was saying then he’d feel more comfortable and he could move some suspicion from her shoulders. But the envoy hadn’t come, the diplomat from her kingdom that was supposed to represent her brother’s approval had yet to arrive. Which only called into question his power once more.
It was getting colder each night but if he broke and allowed her firewood without her asking then he’d have achieved nothing, it was fine for him as he’d spent most of his youth without even a blanket to cover him at night but it did seem she was made of softer stuff. There were whispers that the old lords would return and cast him down, that he would pay for the blood shed by their people under the guise of conquering an empire, and the people would turn on him as in the past year in which he’d held on to power with the tips of his fingers he’d achieved no more than building the port. It was humiliating, all his dreams, his ideas, trampled in the mud simply as others wouldn’t accept him.
“Take off the diadem.” He couldn’t be seen with her like that, she looked every bit a queen and him nothing more than her guard.
“It is her diadem, her right to wear it.” The slave girl translated. “It belongs to her kingdom not yours and you cannot take it from her.”
“Everything in this city is mine, if you wish to eat then you will get on your knees and beg me for food.” At this point he’d accept even the slightest show of deference, the smallest inclination that she didn’t see him as a usurper. For if she did, others would follow.
“I am not hungry.” She said, carefully forming the words. “I want to go home.”
“You will never go home.” He’d slit her throat first, to have her beyond these walls was far more dangerous than having her within these walls. “Come princess, do not irritate me tonight. Accept nothing offered, only answer a question if I say you can, do as I say.”
He was loathe to admit that she played the harp beautifully, so beautifully that he requested another and she begrudgingly complied. In the bright candlelight of the formal dining room she looked noticeably thin, not as she’d looked on their wedding night when she’d looked frail, like someone who needed a few good meals and a long sleep, now she looked sick. Even slaves weren’t as thin as she.
“She refuses to accept anything from this court, claiming its beneath her.” Hopefully this would dissolve the judging stares, it would be better if the women didn’t like her and he won them around on her behalf. “I’ve tried, but she won’t budge.”
“Perhaps she’s shy, she just needs a few friends.” The ever-optimistic Narin smiled, twining her fingers with Abraxas’. If he’d had a choice he’d have a wife similar to Narin, tall and willowy, good tempered, large chested, everything a woman should be. She’d watched the fall of her city, her brothers slain, she ‘d been given a choice between marry into the men who’d killed her brothers or be sold as a slave and she’d made the wiser choice.
“Of course my love, that must be it.” Abraxas smiled at his wife, probably admiring the necklace he’d just bought her.
Out of all the couples around the table Abraxas and Narin suited each other most, then was Ambrose and Helena who bickered constantly and declared their dislike for each other, yet could never leave each other’s side without returning with some small trinket and a kiss. Then there was Nik and Aura, the latter adored the former yet the former always had some complaint, they rubbed along rather well but mostly as Aura was far too afraid to ever disobey. Finally there was he and his wife who was sitting at the very edge of their couch, two people who clearly despised each other. What a fun dinner.
“Princess, would you like some beef?” Narin motioned for a slave to offer the beef.
The slight was so painful that even Alina closed her eyes in defeat, she couldn’t answer as he’d not given her permission but Narin would take it as a spurn. Everyone had seen, the wives of his greatest generals, the slaves that gossiped in the kitchens, even the lowly soldiers that stood at each doorway. Gossip spread like wildfire and come sunrise she would be reviled, to shun Narin who was one of the only women left of the old nobility would be unthinkable. It was more than shunning him, it was shunning the entire kingdom.
“Abraxas, I find myself quite tired.” Narin stood to leave.
“Princess, I think you’re tired. You should rest.” And he was the leader who defended his people from such arrogance. “Leave.”
She left without saying goodnight as he hadn’t given her leave to speak and the slave girl followed, but she definitely heard the sharp whispers as the other wives comforted Narin over her cruel treatment. Soon she would understand that only he could be her saviour, that her brother could do nothing to stop what he had planned, but until then he couldn’t have her stirring dissent in his court.
Dinner passed rather pleasantly, most of the conversation focused on her awful behaviour and pitying him for being stuck with such an obnoxious little bitch. But even if this dinner was a mark in his favour, it meant nothing compared to what was brewing outside of his walls. Armies were gathering, talk were held, calls to action shouted, it would take one man to turn out in her favour to turn the tide against him. It wouldn’t do.
“Anyone would think her brother didn’t come to this court and beg for an army, offering his own sister like a bone to a dog.” Narin scoffed, sharing a look with Helena.
“Are you calling me a dog?” He held Narin’s eyes, watching her cheeks pale before he finally laughed. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Don’t underestimate Kari, he’s as perfidious as a shadow. You think one thing, he’s setting another in motion.” Ambrose drained his wine. “What of the girl?”
“Princess, not girl.” He corrected, more for his status than hers. “Well she’s just rude, obviously unhappy with her marriage and new home.” Although as Kari had practically begged him to take his insane sister off his hands, she could be a little grateful. “She needs to understand the new order of the world, blood doesn’t matter anymore, her lineage doesn’t matter. Only I matter, it’s my vision, my destiny, powering this.”
“Here, here.” Nik raised his glass, holding Abraxas’ eyes. “It’s the gods, not a man’s forefathers that chart destiny.”
“The gods decide if you are worthy, if that’s what they’ve decided then for your sake don’t disappoint them.” Abraxas raised a blonde brow. “The man who disappoints the gods is better dead, isn’t that what all the stories say?”
“Don’t talk of stories, not here.” Not around the women who could bring down a kingdom with their sharp words, each had been chosen for their gifts. Desperation mostly, they wouldn’t turn their husbands’ hearts to softness as their very place threatened to fall at any moment. “Talk of something pleasant, amuse me.”
Of course his rooms were dark as he’d not permitted any candlelight, but the silence prickled along his spine. Something was not right. It should be a full moon but the moon was hidden behind rainless clouds, there should be guards lining the corridor but they’d been called to a report on the western walls, her own guard was overseeing a shipment from her home, and there weren’t any servants due to some reason or another. Something was not right.
“Alina.” He unlocked the door, only to be greeted by silence. “Come here.”
Fuck.